Hogwarts Raven

Chapter 330, Page 329: The Mystery of the Fairy Tale and Stewed Phoenix

The mechanical owl is clearly a place for storing things.

It has a very Hogwarts style.

It must have been a way for Morgan to entice and attract the young wizards at Hogwarts.

and so.

Ian tried some Hogwarts-style commands, but they didn't work. He still had to use serious commands. And when he said "Knowledge knows no bounds, truth is eternal," he was completely won over.

The hidden compartment opens.

The moment the hidden compartment slid open silently.

Ian held his breath.

He took out the black notebook. It looked unremarkable, with a dark brown leather cover, yellowed edges, and some blurry runes engraved on it.

[To the little rascal who rummages through things:]

I knew you'd find this place.

Remember to put it back where you left off after you're done reading.

——M】

Ian couldn't help but chuckle softly.

Sure enough, the teacher had already anticipated that he would "explore" inside the castle.

As Ian finished reading Morgan's message.

The notebook in the mechanical owl's hidden compartment also changed—when held by the right person, the whole book suddenly vibrated, as if there was a beating heart inside.

Just like this notebook, which was disguised as confidential, it has now been removed from its disguise because it was indeed in the hands of Ian, who was preordained to be in it.

The once plain notebook is now deformed.

The spine extends silver tendrils, and the cover features a three-dimensional relief: a witch wearing a pointed hat is chasing the moon on a broomstick, her robes leaving a rainbow-like trail in the night sky.

Yes.

The notebook's texture and color were changing, and then a soft, warm light spilled from between the pages, illuminating Ian's face.

He instinctively took a step back.

However, he did not throw away the notebook that had turned into a book.

Curiosity compelled him to stare intently at the book.

As the light gradually stabilized, the once old and dull cover began to change. Flowing textures emerged on the leather surface, like ripples on water or shimmering stars. Color seeped in little by little—first pale gold, then deep blue and emerald green, until finally the entire cover radiated a dreamlike hue.

It looked extremely pleasing to the eye, not like something from a dark wizard, but rather something from a fairy tale. The thought had barely formed in Ian's mind when he saw the book's title gradually appear.

The Mystery of Fairy Tales

The book title slowly emerged as if it were rising from the water.

The font appears to have been sculpted with light.

It shimmered with a faint silvery glow.

finally.

An incredibly ornate children's book landed in Ian's hands. The gold-embossed title, "The Mystery of Fairy Tales," shimmered in the sunlight, and several miniature bells hung from the corners of the book.

His movements produced a crisp sound.

“This…” Ian’s fingers gently traced the cover, the touch like silk and flowing water, his face filled with disbelief. “Mr. Morgan actually reads fairy tales?”

It's no wonder Ian was so surprised.

The main reason was that in his mind, Ms. Morgan was a very traditional black witch, a bad woman, and he really found it hard to imagine Ms. Morgan hiding under the covers reading fairy tales.

"This book shouldn't just be a simple fairy tale," Ian thought to himself. He carefully turned to the first page, and a faint fragrance of flowers and the scent of the forest wafted out, as if a breeze were blowing from the book. It was even more vibrant than books from the magical world, though, like those books, it wasn't a static book either.

It's full of pictures.

As Ian opened
The illustrations on the book pages started to move.

The first image is of a dense, black forest, with towering trees casting dappled shadows. A little girl in a red cloak is walking slowly through the fallen leaves.

She looked up, revealing a pair of crystal-clear eyes, smiled slightly at Ian, and then continued walking forward. At the same time, a deep and gentle narration came from the book.

The voice is clear and magnetic.

Like a seasoned storyteller whispering in your ear: "Long, long ago, in a forgotten kingdom, there lived a girl named Red Riding Hood..."

This was truly an amazing experience.

Ian was completely captivated. He turned to the next page and found that the illustrations had transformed into a 3D projection, with the characters in the story seemingly leaping off the page.

He could even hear the howling of wolves and feel the rustling of leaves in the wind. The sound effects were comparable to a high-end speaker system worth six figures, with every detail perfectly reproduced.

"This is so realistic..." Ian muttered to himself.

As he flipped through the pages, he pondered: Why would Professor Morgan hide such a book here? And why in such an inconspicuous place in the library, where it can only be activated by a specific incantation?

"Could it be... that they want me to learn something from this book? Even though Professor Morgan is out, they still left me homework?" This thought arose in Ian's mind.

The more he thought about it, the more likely it seemed.

Morgan's thoughts are so hard to fathom.

Bad women always like to teach him knowledge in special ways, sometimes even leaving other knowledge in the existing knowledge for him to discover and explore.

Thinking of this, Ian became more serious. He took the book and walked to the stargazing room next to the observatory. Outside the window, the magically simulated starry sky was slowly turning.

This room is located in the highest tower of the castle.

The circular dome is inlaid with countless star-shaped crystals, each reflecting a different constellation and star trail. Ancient star charts hang on the walls, and a faint scent of lavender permeates the air.

The observatory was filled with all sorts of strange divination tools.

In the center of the room stood a huge long table, piled high with various divination tools: crystal balls, bronze mirrors, quill pens, and several parchment scrolls inscribed with prophecies. Most striking was the telescope in the corner—its lens had eyes that blinked occasionally, which was quite endearing.

It will also turn to peer out the window.

"The castle has so many fairytale-like elements, is that Morgan's research on the theme of fairytales?" Ian turned to the second page of the book again.

He took the book and walked to the velvet armchair in the center of the observatory, where he sat down.

The moment the pages opened, a rainbow-colored light screen projected from the book into mid-air. Accompanied by surround sound effects—the sound quality was as clear as the most advanced magical phonograph.

A gentle female voice began to narrate.

"Long, long ago, in the glass kingdom at the end of the rainbow."

Ian's eyes widened. Within the suspended light screen, countless tiny points of light coalesced into lifelike scenes: a crystal-clear castle, talking flowers, and a princess wearing glass slippers. Even more magical, the text on the pages changed in sync, each letter seemingly pulsating with life, forming new paragraphs.

He tentatively touched the projection of the "glass castle," feeling a cool, smooth sensation on his fingertips, while the text on the pages immediately unfolded in detail:

Glass Magic: A variant of advanced transformation magic that can temporarily transform any substance into a transparent state.

"This is hardly a fairy tale book."

Ian muttered to himself. He turned the pages in utter astonishment. Each fairy tale concealed some profound magical principle: "The Three Little Pigs" demonstrated the differences in the strength of different protective spells; "Little Red Riding Hood" revealed the seven taboos of transfiguration; even "The Ugly Duckling" became a wonderful metaphor for bloodline magic.

"It's basically a magic textbook disguised as a fairy tale!"

When Ian turned to the chapter on Sleeping Beauty, a wisp of pale purple smoke suddenly drifted out of the book. He reached out and touched one of the towers, and immediately a melodious harp tune filled the entire book.

The Snow White page even has a detailed tutorial on how to make a poisoned apple.

It was truly an incredibly immersive experience.

Just as the book was telling the story of Princess Snow White being awakened by a kiss.

Suddenly, the seven dwarfs in the book ran over as if they had gone mad, frantically scribbling on the text with mining tools, and in the blink of an eye, they buried Snow White and her coffin underground.

Not suitable for children.

Text is displayed.

It features some teasing and humorous remarks from the Black Witch towards Ian.

of course.

According to the clever Ian, the thing left behind by his teacher Morgan was definitely not just for teaching him magic; the mystery of the fairy tale in the title was probably the real theme.

This is not.

The fairy tale section only makes up half of the entire book.

The remaining half contains other content.

Fairy tales are not merely stories told to children. They are remnants of history, whispers of a magical world, and the hopes we once held.

From "The Girl in the Red Hat" to "The Song of the Undersea," each story seems to carry some kind of hidden power, not just a simple fantasy legend, but a fragment that truly exists in the history of magic.

What follows is no longer animated visuals and narration, but rather a series of analyses and studies written in elegant and rigorous handwriting, authored by Professor Morgan.

"Fairy tales are not stories, but another way of expressing history."

Ian held his breath and continued reading. Professor Morgan's notes were as meticulous as a potions recipe, each analysis accompanied by precise magical data. She traced the magical origins of 327 classic European fairy tales passed down over nearly a thousand years, discovering that 89% of them contained real historical events.

Ian's fingertips trembled slightly. Behind these words lay not only academic discoveries, but also an almost obsessive dedication. Professor Morgan wasn't studying fairy tales; he was attempting to prove something far grander.

When the page turned to the chapter on "The Decay Curve of Fairy Tale Magic," it suddenly unfolded into a giant magical chart. Countless fluorescent lines intertwined in the air.

It forms a curve that continuously descends from the upper left corner to the lower right corner.

Morgan added a note in her signature sharp handwriting: "The golden age of fairy tales: 900-1600 AD."

The turning point in the decline of magic: after the implementation of the International Law of Secrecy in 1692.

Estimated time of complete disappearance: end of the 20th century.

These were clearly research summaries based on the book Ian had previously given her. Below the charts were a series of complex magical mathematical formulas. Ian could barely make out a few variables: M (magic concentration), H (hope index), T (time variable). Morgan had even built a complete mathematical model, repeatedly verifying it using seven different algorithms.

The final conclusion was highlighted in bold in a large line.

Based on my theoretical calculations.

1990 ± 5 years will be the last window of opportunity for the birth of a 'true fairy tale'. After that, the wizarding world will enter the 'post-fairy tale era'—an era devoid of hope.

See here.

Ian was also somewhat taken aback.

1990—wasn't that the era he lived in? He eagerly turned to the last chapter: "Fairy Tales and the Law of Conservation of Hope." The ink on the notes here was fresher.

This is clearly content that Morgan added recently.

"Through the measurement of the 'hope factor' in 327 samples, it was confirmed that each fairy tale contains a specific intensity of positive magical fluctuation. This fluctuation is positively correlated with the collective consciousness of 'expecting miracles to happen.'"

A passage that had been repeatedly erased and rewritten stood out:

"The most terrifying thing is not the disappearance of fairy tales, but that people no longer believe in the possibility of fairy tales. When the last 'Muggle-born' stops gazing at the stars, the very foundation of magic will shake."

书页边缘画着个潦草的箭头，指向另一段用小字写就的惊人发现：“补充：1991年霍格沃茨新生中，'完全相信魔法生物存在'的比例已降至67%（对比：1891年为98%）。预测此数据将在2001年跌破50%临界点。“

Ian was taken aback.

This is not just an academic study.

It's more like a warning letter from the magical civilization itself.

In her unique way, Ms. Morgan detected subtle changes taking place in the magical world within the seemingly childlike realm of fairy tales.

Outside the window, the simulated starry sky had turned a somber gray. Inside the crystal ball of the observatory, a miniature storm was raging. Ian suddenly understood why Morgan had disguised such important research as a fairy tale—in this age of rationalism, perhaps only the form of "fairy tales" could still maintain a shred of curiosity and imagination.

He gently closed the book, and the bell on the back cover rang crisply. Just then, a new line of small, gilded characters suddenly appeared on the spine:
To the little wizard who discovered this secret:

Remember, the most powerful magic,
It is always the courage to believe in 'possibility'.

——M“

Ian clutched the book tightly to his chest. 1990, the era of the last fairy tale, also the beginning of a new era. He had no idea what Mr. Morgan had foreseen.

But one thing is clear—we are standing at a turning point in history.

"If the final fairy tale comes to an end, does that mean the end of magic? I wonder how many more years this final fairy tale of Hogwarts can last."

Ian's thoughts were still immersed in Professor Morgan's research.

Why does magic decline as human beliefs waver? Since magic originates from the Creator and is one of the fundamental laws governing the world, why is it so closely linked to human belief?
Is this related to the reason why fairy tales were conceived?

He recalled the creator's heart, thrown into the lava by the raven in the black-and-white world; he thought of the twisted rules of death; he remembered the disappearing fairy tale magic. A terrifying conjecture gradually took shape in his mind—perhaps what the raven was doing was not just about reincarnating, but also about trying to save fairy tales and the end of magic?!

Before he could figure it out, a familiar sense of detachment suddenly washed over him. The time for the hazy illusion had come.

The surrounding scenery began to fade; the crystal ball at the observatory, the magic star map, and even the book "The Mystery of Fairy Tales" in my hand gradually blurred, like paint being washed away by water.

Ian felt his consciousness being gently pulled, as if an invisible hand was peeling him off the canvas.

At the last moment, he saw Morgan's figure appear at the entrance of the observatory, her black robes billowing like raven feathers. She seemed to say something, but her voice was drawn out into a strange buzzing sound, and he could no longer make it out.

dark.

Then comes warmth.

Before he even opened his eyes, Ian could smell the sweet aroma of Honeydukes candy store, hear the crackling of firewood in the fireplace, and—the voice of Albus Dumbledore.

“My dear Titan.”

Dumbledore's gentle voice carried a hint of helplessness.

"Fox is a partner, not food."

He was advising someone.

“But I often stew my own phoenix,” the girl said matter-of-factly. “I add some ginger slices to remove the fishy smell, simmer it over low heat for three hours, and the feathers will automatically turn into the texture of enoki mushrooms.”

Right in the midst of this debate.

Ian opened his eyes.

(End of this chapter)